


Like Lovers Do

by ImLikeHelicase



Category: Hyakujuuou GoLion | Beast King GoLion, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on a song, Detective AU!, Eventual Shotor, Human!Allura, Human!Lotor, M/M, Mafia AU!, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rivalry, Shiro hasn't lost his arm yet, Unbeta'd, not really - Freeform, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-04-05 06:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImLikeHelicase/pseuds/ImLikeHelicase
Summary: The Galran and Altean political parties have always been neck and neck with each other. Cutthroat, unrelenting. But now there are new players in this long played game of chess. Now after the long-standing Altean power, Alfor decided to retire. The slate has been wiped clean. New members take the lead. One, Zarkon. The other, Alfor's daughter, Allura.However, Zarkon is in no position to lose, and he wants to bring down the opposing political party-any way he can. Even if that means sending in two moles in the midst of the young elitist Allura's detective company.-or-the Mafia/Detective AU that no one asked for.(Choppy beginning, please hang in there)





	1. I

_**I see you watching me** _

Sincline would've been blind not to notice the Japanese man giving him side glances. Although Sincline wasn't very interested in men, except for an occasional dabble so he'd be on the other side of dirty fuckery, this one had something about him. Sharp jaw, well built, and well-defined eyes that Sincline would not mind looking down at as he rode the man to hell and back.

But Sincline couldn't just be staring at a member of the small group of individuals Zarkon had decided to call for an important meeting. A plan to overthrow the Altean political dynasty and make the Galran name more prominent in their city. Sincline knew he was supposed to be ruthless, and he knew that his rumors preceded his true nature. He'd worked his way up to that status, and he wasn't about to just lose it for a member of the society who wanted to play an elementary staring contest.

They were in a dimly-lit room. Illuminated by a dusty light fixture that hung over the mahogany table. The light, dusty it was, was enough for the small huddle of people, and enough to see the stacks of black money, and ashtrays where some cigarettes had been put out. Others were put out on skin.

The most prominent thing about the room, however, was that it smelled like fired guns. Not the way in that people had been executed in this little room- no, that would gain too much attention. But it always smelled of gunpowder. There were only five others in the room, excluding Sincline, and one was Zarkon himself. The corrupted official was currently holding out his cigarette and lighting it up with Sendak's lighter, and taking deep puffs when he pulled the tobacco out and blew a gust of smoke out to his followers. "I presume everyone has heard of the new girl running for Mayor?"

Sincline nodded, trying to fan the smoke out of his face, "She'll be the next successor to the chair- right after her father."

"Unless we stop her." Zarkon answered, holding up a finger. He'd earned everyone's attention. There was a murmur of agreement. "Now it isn't a fleshed-out plan, but I want to rip the Altean office from the inside, make them eat themselves open trying to find a mole,"

"And how do we do that?"

Sincline turned to the voice, finally getting a liable reason to look at the mystery man. Hair pulled back in a topknot, and a white streak that ran through it. Stray locks of white fell over his face, and framed his bone structure, and made the scar across his nose stand out. He was probably of mixed heritage too, Sincline decided. He had an acceptable amount of stubble, and his form was decked with muscle. But his eyes were grey. Not the stone cold eyes you'd see with everyone else in this room. These eyes had broken, but they'd found a way to mend too. Sincline bit his lip. Damn, this man wasn't just  _fine_ , he was fucking sexy.

"That's what everyone is here for," Zarkon answered, mouth upturned in a smirk. "We're going to set in two moles."

"Twice the damage," Sendak added.

The mystery man raised a brow, "I'm listening,"

Zarkon turned sharply to Sincline, and pointed. "Sincline, you'll be one of them."

Sincline nodded curtly, taking his eyes off the mystery man, "Yes, sir."

"And Takashi- you'll be our second." Zarkon turned to the mystery man. "Does that make sense now?"

 _Takashi_. Fuck, even his name was a turn on. Noble and honor. Sincline glanced at Takashi who seemed to be grimacing, "Yes, sir."

"Perfect, I scheduled an interview for the two of you for the Altean office as bodyguards for her advisory team, the limousine is outside, Haggar will brief you in there." Zarkon said, shooing them off. The other male seemed a bit overwhelmed at how fast everything was moving, and seemed to stop in time. Looking around the room for some confirmation that this was actually happening.

Zircon just raised a trimmed eyebrow and shooed them out. Sincline pulled his bag over his head, and pulled the hair out of the strap. He gave Takashi a last look, and headed out of the back room of the restaurant. Passing a few unknowing customers, and ignoring a man who tried to call him over to order something.

It was almost poetic, that a high-end restaurant that served expensive wine and food that could probably be eaten in a few bites- was the front to a Mafia. Led by the city's second-most popular politician. Probably the city's most corrupt politician.

Sincline glanced back absentmindedly, and checked to see if Takashi was behind him. When he noticed the muscular man come out of the back room, and walk up to the front door, Sincline pushed out, and waited on the sidewalk, pulling out his phone, going on Twitter.

"Takashi,"

Sincline looked up, making it seem like he didn't care, and sized up the other man again, taking time to appreciate those thighs- his hand was held out for a polite handshake. Sincline just gave him a curt nod and went back to his phone, knowing that Takashi pulled his hand back awkwardly, and took a shaky breath.

"Haggar should be here any moment now." Sincline muttered, eyes still trained on the phone, showing no signs of looking up. Takashi nodded, and pulled out his hair, running his fingers through dark locks

Haggar wasn't her real name, everyone just called her that. She was a tall lady who had aged, in Sincline's perspective, wonderfully. Most people her age would've had Botox to tighten their skin, but Haggar made it look flawless, hair dark black, and just faintly blue at the tips, where the dye had grown out and faded. She opened the door from the inside, and waited for the two men to enter the hummer limousine. Sincline stepped aside, and shared a quick exchange of power with Takashi, both edging the other to enter first. But finally, Takashi gave him a childish eye roll, tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ear, and stepped in. Sincline glanced around the night air of Doom City. Bad habit. To make sure no one was watching. The attempt was futile- there were cameras on the doors of the restaurant and some on the street lights. It wasn't as if they were going to stay private for long, and it didn't;t look as if they were about to strike a mission that would probably tip the city's very foundations. Just two men, entering a sheer, black limousine.

Sincline slipped in, and closed the door behind himself. It was an odd little fit to get situated, his gangly limbs fitting awkwardly as he ducked to move past Takashi and Haggar to the far seat. Haggar held out a plastic box, and Sincline emptied his pockets. Phone, wallet, keys, a cough drop, and a small bottle of Advil. Seemingly, Shiro had nothing but a knife on him. Sincline smirked when Shiro pulled it straight out to his pants. Sincline made his way to the last cushioned seat, the one by the glass bar. He was just about to pour himself some sparkling water when Haggar cleared her throat. "I suppose you were both introduced?"

Takashi replied, faster than Sincline could even comprehend the question, "No ma'am. I don't even know this man's name,"

Sincline grumbled something incoherent. Glaring at Haggar first. She knew that Sincline wasn't the one to go off frolicking- introducing himself, breaking the ice. He wasn't social, and he was commended for it.

"I suppose introductions are in order, I'll go first." She cleared her throat, and Sincline could see her swallow. A tell. She was going to lie.

"You will know me as Haggar, as that is what everyone in the Galran forces will refer to me as. You have no other option, I will only be known as Haggar to you. My real name is Honverva. I am in charge of the Emperor's plans- a secretary, if we want to keep the answer meek."

The Galran hierarchy worked differently than other gangs. There was no GodFather. There was only the Emperor, and the Emperor was the word. Simply translated, the Consort, was Haggar. And the Prince- the Mafioso. Sincline had no idea what Takashi was. An assassin, probably, judging from his stature and build. Along with the scars that ran along his abdomen. Sincline could see faint slivers of the marks through the other man's shirt. Haggar was staring at him. Eyes ordering him to talk.

"Sincline. Prince, of the Galran Empire. However, start reffering to me as Lotor, it will be my cover's name. I work directly under Zarkon, and am also part of his human resources team. I don't show around much, makes sense. Zarkon doesn't want the man he sends for assassinations on the telly." Lotor replied, keeping his honest deadly honest, and turned over to Takashi. Takashi seemed to be a bit dazed by Lotor's announcement, and Lotor could make out a soft gasp, "The prince?"

Anyone in the Mafia knew that the next worst thing from the Emperor, was the Prince. Most people thought that the name was given to Sendak, the man with a square jaw, and a distinct scar running down the side of his face. Being completely honest, Sendak probably did look like a good guess for The Prince. Cunning, relentless- he beat whoever decided to disobey his orders.

The other man pursed his lips, suddenly uncomfortable under the gaze of the two other people in the limo.

"My name is Takashi Shirogane, but I prefer to be called Shiro." He fiddled with his fingers for a moment, but then continued, "I joined the Galran forces only about a month ago."

Lotor leaned forward, legs crossed, chin on his hand, aristocratic accent suddenly noticeable, "What do they call you? What's your rank?"

Takashi seemed to wince at the thought of what he was about to say, "The Champion."

Lotor raised a brow of interest, "The Champion." His voice dipped, and he murmured. Explained the scars. It wasn't much to go on, but it just made sense. It hadn't cleared up the haze of uncertainty around the other man, but it sure as hell just fit him.

Champion.

Started off in the rings, then. Fought his way to the top. Probably abused by the hierarchy he was put in. Takashi probably didn't take the current job by liking- he was probably coerced into it.

"Well, I suppose we should talk about the mission, then," Haggar started, pulling out an IPad and reaching over Lotor to turn on the flatscreen.

Lotor almost snorted when he saw the presentation load up, but was given a glare of silence.

"How much do you know about your mission?" Haggar asked, turning to them, IPad in hand. Waiting for the slideshow to boot up.

"It's like always, take down the Altean dynasty. Make them weaker." Lotor shrugged, uncrossing his legs, "Who am I taking out?" He paused, glancing at Takashi, "Who are /we/ taking out?"

Haggar gave them a terse look, "This won't be a mission that will involve killing. It will most likely be one of the longest, most intricate missions that I've been told to run."

Takashi winced visibly, but that only piqued Lotor's interest. "So, spies."

Haggar shrugged, holding her hand out and giving him the so-so gesture, "You'll have marks, and your job is to get as close to them as possible. You both will be working in Altean offices, working with the team that plans all of Allura's policies, etc, etc. We need to take them out from the inside."

"How do we do that?"

Haggar's smile was tight, and visibly forced, "You'll just have to learn to socialize. Shiro. You'll be after a one, Keith Kogane."

The face of a young brooding man came up on screen, dark shades and hair up in a rough topknot, cigarette in his fingers, the background showed the doors of a black jaguar.

Haggar tossed a small file at Takashi, "That's the basics, read through it. Pressure points, interests, hobbies, family, history, occupation. Favorite movie, restaurants, everything you'll need to cozy up and be best friends." Haggar warbled the last part with sarcasm and swiped her finger across her IPad to the next.

"Lance McLain, an upfront face in Allura's campaign."

The picture was one of a blue-eyed grinning man, who looked boyish in his charms, tanned, laughing, fingers loosely curled around the stem of a wine glass. Lotor caught the file, and made quick skim over it.

Likes to cook, 90's filmophile, bought his clothes from vintage stores. Lotor could catch an abnormal track record- 3 years in the navy. That sounded like something that could be dug into.

"We're at the loft you will be sharing, so you can get situated." Haggar held out keys on her index finger, "One car, share with each other, please."

"We'll try," Lotor said, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you ma'am," Takashi said, nodding in appreciation, "but I don't have my stuff with me-"

Lotor shook his head, answering for Haggar,"You can't have them. Can't have anything the real Takashi Shirogane liked. You're a new man now. Will you be picking a new name?"

"I don't think so."

The limo rolled to a stop, and Lotor licked his lips, waiting for the doors to unlock, "You've been thrown into the ocean with this mission, haven't you?"

Takashi's wince was honest, "Yeah."

"Perfect." lotor climbed out from the right side of the limo, "I'll have to take care of you."

"Would that be so bad?" Takashi chuckled, awkwardly.

Lotor's head whipped around and he smirked, "If you cut your hair, maybe we can strike a deal,"

Shiro shrugged at the thought, and touched his shoulder length hair absentmindedly, "We'll see,"

Haggar went through a few more procedural items on the list, and soon left them with thick files on their target, a debit card, and keys.

The penthouse at the top of the building was spacious, with two rooms, and fully furnished. Haggar closed the door behind her, and took one last look at the two young men with a wary eye, "You two will have the week to change everything about yourselves. Wardrobe, hobbies. Make an airtight cover for the two of you. Bond or whatever, you have new numbers, and we shall send you periodic texts on assignments and keep you updated. From now onward," Haggar's hand went to the doorknob, "You don't know that the Galra exist, and you political views match those of the Alteans,"

Lotor waved her off, and crossed his hands over his chest. Shiro took a moment to look around the penthouse, realizing that it was much more than he'd expected. The  _bathroom_  was as big as his room used to be. The main floor had the necessities, kitchen, office, master bathroom, and even a library. He decided to go up the winding staircase, and saw that the room split into two rooms, both fully furnished. But there was still enough space to add personality to each. Each had their own small bathroom, and a desk. He sat on the bed, and was pleasantly surprised at how well it held, but still gave enough cushioning. He fell back, sighing, and pulling his hair out of the tight knot it was. Draggin his hands through his scalp, the feeling of his hair loose was welcome, instead of having it tight over his head. He would like to rest, but the idea seemed to be foreign to Lotor, who had come up to tell Shiro to move. Shiro looked up, and saw the scissors and the razor in his hand, "We're shaving that shit, and I'm fixing your hair,"

Shiro grunted as he pulled himself up, and sighed, "I was hoping it didn't come to this,"

"A whole new Takashi, a whole new person," Lotor said, heading off to the bathroom, and pulling up a chair. Shiro soon realized that Lotor has put newspaper on the door so that there was an easier clean up. Lotro pointed at the chair and reached over the sink to get to a plug, and pulled the clipper off it's charging station. Shiro took a tentative seat, his hands gripping the sides of the chair, one that was too small for his bulk of muscle. The razor that was between Lotor's teeth looked ominous- but that was probably his time from the ring coming back to haunt him.

Lotor raised a brow, and pulled out a comb to pull his hair back, and up into a clean bun, "Just needed to get that Beyonce hair out of the way, now we're all good to work on you,"

Shiro's mouth quirked upward at 'Beyonce hair', and his stance relaxed as Lotor's hands ran through his hair. One with a comb, and one feeling his scalp.

"You have a damn fine skull, has anyone told you that?" Lotor stated through the razor. He put the razor on the edge of the sink, and let his hands linger for a bit too long in Takashi's hair.

"That's not one of the compliments I've had dished out,"

Lotor chuckled, and strutted over to infront of Takashi, "Okay, so the beard, or the hair. Which one goes first?"

Takashi looked in the mirror, and sighed, "Hair first, I suppose."

Lotor nodded in understanding, and took a comb to Shiro's hair, being relentless with the few knots that had managed to squirm thier way into Shiro's locks. Shiro winced as Lotor tugged, but kept his mouth shut.

"How long have you kept your hair like this? You've grown quite a..."

"A nest?"

"I was going to go for  _coif_ , but whatever suits your dictionary," Lotor muttered, picking the scissors off the counter, and taking it to Shiro's hair. Shiro waited for the noise, and with a few clean  _snips_ , hair fell to the floor. It seemed like Lotor knew what he was doing- or maybe that he'd done it to others before, because he'd give little commands,

_'Lean back,'_

_'Look at me,'_

_'Okay, tilt. I didn't ask you become Uranus! Just tilt, there,'_

Much to Shiro's dismay, Lotor looked very infatuating when he was infront of Shiro, checking the symmetry of the cut. Lip bit, and his head tilted to the side, some of his hair falling out of his bun. Then the small sigh of satisfaction as he moved over to the counter to put a clipper onto a machine, and turning it on.

"You've got some scars near the top of your head, so I'm not going to cut it down any more, but I'll go over it with a number five." He paused, grinning, "can I keep your...stress line?"

Shiro looked up at Lotor, with a look of question, "My what?"

Lotor grinned wide, and his accent cracked for a moment,, "I'll keep it,"

So Lotor buzzed the sides of Shiro's hair, but kept the top thick with hair. He ran a last hand through it, satisfied. Lotor handed Shiro the handheld mirror, and got out the shaving cream and brush.

"If anyone else had that haircut they'd look stupid as fuck, but you somehow manage to pull it off," Lotor said, taking the razor, in one hand, and putting the cream on Shiro's face. Hands surprisingly soft for an assassin. The razor made soft scraping noises against Shiro's skin, and didn't even nick him once.

"Thank you, I guess,"

Lotor used the back of his wrist to push some hair out of his face, when it kept falling in his face, and decided it would be easier if he was behind Shiro. He told the other man to lean back, and stepped forward so Shiro could use his hip bone as a headrest. Not the most comfortable, but at lead it would provide some support. Lotor's mouth opened slightly as he started to move to razor under Shiro's chin, being a bit more cautious there. Lotor could feel Shiro's neck tense under his fingers. Lotor couldn't blame him- he was a Champion of Zarkon's rings; he'd survived by  _not_  trusting people with knives.

Shiro noticed how Lotor's actions had become less fluid, as if he was trying to avoid hurting him. Shiro decided to make a small conversation. Lotor happened to be much more vocal than Shiro would've pinned him to be. Making small snarky comments, and humming the tune to  _November Rain_.

"You're quite good at this," Shiro started, trying to loosen the tension that had collected in his neck, and shifting his head to position better on Lotor's hip.

"Yeah, I used to do the hair for everyone in my squadron on missions. I do the Emperor's hair too." He chuckled, "Just a hobby."

"Seems like you've been complimented on this before,"

Lotor's grey eyes met Shiro's for a hint of a minute, and then he went back to his work, smothering a cheeky smirk, "I've been told I'm gifted with my hands,"

Shiro's mind instantly to the dirtier connotation, and tried to move his thoughts to dead kittens. Or his mom.

"Take that however you want," Lotor added, nonchalantly. After a few more minutes of finishing it all, Lotor let Shiro look straight, and pulled the towel off his shoulder, "Done, you just need to wash your face,"

Shiro got up, and splashed water on his face, and when he looked up into the mirror, it was looking at another person.

"We can see that face now," Lotor joked, leaning against the side of the door, typing something on the phone that had been provided, "Now we need to make you an airtight cover."

Shiro nodded, and dried himself off with the back of his hand, but then with the towel that Lotor threw at him. "Why are you always on your phone?"

"Because I'm a millennial," Lotor responded, "And I'm making my cover social media accounts, I'm going to need a laptop to actually get all of this sorted through. Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram," Lotor looked up, "Sounds good? Or too little?"

Shiro put the towel on the rack, and looked over Lotor's shoulder, "What's Instagram?"

"Oh my god, you poor thing." Lotor's eyes widened, "How long have you been taken by the Galra?"

"Straight out of college, I joined the army...Then..." Shiro trailed off, and shrugged, "Since 2013?"

Lotor frowned, "That's four years, how old are you?"

"Thirty, turned thirty in February,"

"Well, I'm twenty-eight, and I'm going to save you." Lotor sighed, furiously typing, "Your cover, what's his personality going to be?"

Shiro moved out of the bathroom to a better spot; the couch, and sat down. Lotor still typing on his phone, not even bothering a minute to look up. Shiro paused a minute to think, "I think he'll be a lot like I am."

Lotor's brow was raised, and he looked up, and nodded. He moved over to the table where the files for the mission had been tossed, and put it open on one lap, and flipped through it, while the typed with his left thumb. Something that to Shiro, seemed like a superpower.

"Alright, so I've got you a Twitter, and let's start working on Takashi's past."

Shiro winced at the use of his whole name, "Shiro's past."

"Does he prefer Shiro over Takashi? That's good, so he's more seriou-"

Shiro shook his head, "No, I prefer Shiro. People haven't called me Takashi in years,"

Lotor's eyes seemed to snap open in realization, and he apologized. Shiro just told him to shrug it off, and they continued with their character building. Shiro turned over one of the blank pages in the file and started scribbling on the back of it.

"One of us should have a very casanova feel,"

Shiro didn't even pause for a moment, "You,"

Even Lotor's whine seemed to correlate with his accent, "You'd be a fine casanova,"

Shiro chuckled through his nose, "The last time I flirted, I was convinced I was about to die,"

Lotor gave him a small look of concern, but put it off, "Alright then, I'll be the Casanova."

"What else?" Shiro asked, almost done with a pretty sound cover. Lotor just sat by him, and took a deep breath, "You've been in the military. That's what the scars are from,"

Shiro nodded affirmatively, "That was going to happen automatically, I wasn't going to explain the whole arena,"

Lotor's eyes narrowed, and his voice was dangerous, "Don't even  _mention_  the Galra. Does that make sense?"

Shiro paused for a moment, looking over Lotor's face. Violet eyes were intense, and his lips were in a thin line. Lotor didn't seem to have any patience for this. His hair was still up in a disorderly bun, and there were strands falling down into his eyes. Shiro dipped his head in understanding.

"Till morning, then," Lotor announced, pointing at the analog clock on the kitchen wall that ticked away, almost screaming that it was too late at night to stay up for much longer. Shiro looked over at the seat that Lotor had occupied for most of the past few hours, but was surprised to find it empty. Then the door clicked closed, and Shiro soon realized that Lotor has made his way into his room.

Shiro sighed, and felt his undercut, his skull pleasantly lighter with the load of hair chopped off. It had been a while since Shiro had been given proper time to himself- with no cameras. He blanched. Cameras.

He got up with a start, anxious now. Were the Galra still watching him? Judging his every move?

His breath was shaky as he took one, and went up to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He allowed his eyes to wander, however, checking the little nooks in the walls, for anything that would glaringly point out as a camera. But nothing seemed to stand out. Nothing to point out if the Galrans were watching him. But he was still on edge.

The whole week passed by uneventfully, they'd got clothes. Continued to work on the covers. Haggar sent them little messages on occasion, reminding them to do specific tasks, or just buying something that would help out.

Then, Monday, they had to report to Altean Industries. The Voltron crew. They'd just had a quick breakfast drink, and Lotor was still sipping his coffee as he brought out a large suitcase, and put it on the table. Shiro stood, buckling his belt, and looked over as Lotor opened the suitcase. Shiro's eyebrows shot up to his head when he saw the contents.

It was like a travel-sized armory. Semi-automatics, automatics, batons, an array of knives, handheld grenades, loops of what looked like 12-gauge wire, pepper spray, and tazers. Shiro had to wait a moment to process what was happening as Lotor tossed him a shoulder holster and a utility belt.

"Do you have a gun permit?" Lotor asked, buttoning up his shirt, putting the guns in the shoulder holster, tucking them tight, and latching them closed.

"Uh, no?" Shiro chuckled, picking up an automatic, and flicking a button on the side.  
  


"Don't!" Lotor snatched the gun away, and flicked it back to its original state, "Don't, turn off the safety when you're not going to shoot," he snapped in fevor, and put the gun on the table. Shiro winced, when he saw Lotor's face, and started to take off the holster.   
  


"No," Lotor started, holding out a hand so Shiro would keep the holster over his shoulders, "I'll teach you how to shoot a gun," then, in a softer voice muttered, "Damnit he doesn't know how to use an automatic,"  
  


"Yeah, wasn't really allowed to carry pocket guns in the arena. I do know how to shoot a long rifle, though,"  
  


"That doesn't really help our situation, does it?"  
  


Shiro looked back in the case, and picked up a police baton, and a small dagger, "I can use these, though,"  
  


"Better than nothing," Lotor admitted, "Let's hope your delinquent knows how to protect itself,"  
  


Shiro chuckled as he took a utility belt, and pocketed both, the baton and the dagger, "With that track record, I wonder if he could bring me down,"  
  


Lotor seemed to have finished buckling an armory on himself, and nodded, "Make sure you keep your weapons in check when around that one,"  
  


Shiro ambled closer to the door, and plucked an apple of the counter, frowning, "They are people, Lotor, you don't need to refer to them as objects,"

Lotor looked at Shiro, his expression gaunt, "They're jobs, Shiro. Not friends."

Shiro's expression seemed to convey that he disagreed with the statement, but was quiet about it, taking a bit out of the apple, and following Lotor to white Chevy that the Galrans had provided for their use. Lotor opened the door, pulling the keys out of the pocket, and sliding in. He glanced over to Shiro, waiting for his colleague to get in. They were off. It was only a twenty-minute drive from the condo, and the streets were clear. Surprisingly so, for six in the morning. Shiro didn't ask, but reached forward, the baton he'd put on his belt digging into his chest, and turned on the radio, and old rock soon filled the conversation less car ride.   

The pinnacle of the Altean corporation, now run by Alfor's daughter, Allura, was the large V. It hung on every office, and especially on their main building. Lotor and Shiro shared a final glance, a final look between their real selves. At least for Shiro, that is. Shiro still had no idea who Lotor really was. Only that his real name was Sincline, and that the loose accent that the man sported was high-class. Was Lotor even...Lotor? Or had the cover began the very first moment Shiro had entered the car with him?

The underground parking's shade washed over the car, and Shiro looked back ahead, the lines on the ground leading them to the lower level. Where they soon parked. On the lowest level. Level 7. Lotor had vaguely muttered something about precaution as he got out of the car, and pressed the button on the key to lock it.

Lotor turned to Shiro, "Pop quiz. Who are you?"

Shiro remembered the well-rehearsed profile, and kept his tone steady- confident, "Takashi Shirogane, I was hired to meet..." he took out the file that was tucked under his arm. A prop for his play, "...Keith Kogane? I'm here with my partner, Lotor Daibazaal."

Lotor nodded curtly, "And...what did you do before you took up the idea of being a bodyguard?"

"Military. Five years," he gestured at the scars up his arms, "Active combatant,"

The question that they'd spent much time deciding how to answer, "And, what do you know about the Galra?"

"In my firm, I've met many people," he lowered his voice, "I've had some encounters with the gang,"

"We're not a gang," Lotor said, sounding a bit offended, "We're a mafia."

Shiro glanced around the lot, "Don't you think there are cameras? Shouldn't we...not do this?"

Lotor just gave him an assuring smile, "Oh Shiro, all you need to worry about, is your target. The rest, will be mine to do."


	2. Chapter 2

“We need to meet Allura Altea? We’re the bodyguards she’s hired,” Lotor explained to the male secretary.

  
“Of course! Allura’s been expecting you, we appreciate you all being able to come with such short notice,” The secretary stood, and led them down the hall to an office, where there was clearly a fight going on.

  
“No! We don’t need bodyguards! We can handle ourselves, well enough,”

  
“Keith, please, they might be coming any minute,” a lady said, trying to tone down the fire. SHiro and Lotor gave each other a glance. This would mean that they’d have to be on their best behavior. Maybe even kiss up to the two targets. The secretary leaned forward, and knocked on the door. The squabbling went quiet.

  
“Come in,” The female voice replied, sounding a bit forced.

  
Shiro and Lotor shared a glance, and Lotor pushed the door in.

  
It wasn’t a huge difference, the two men in the room were the ones that Lotor and Shiro had need in the files. Both were sitting in chairs, and across from them, was someone that Shiro hadn’t seen before. Dark skin, but with bleached white hair that toppled down her shoulders onto her light blue blazer. Expressive blue eyes that went against genetic means. Shiro caught her eyes size him up, and he froze, reddening.

 

“Miss Altea?” Lotor asked, putting a hand out. The woman’s eyes left Shiro, and turned to Lotor, and stood.

  
“Yes, it it Lotor?”

  
Lotor nodded, “Yes, ma’am,”

  
The two young men in their seats stood, and introduced themselves, and Shiro shook thier hands respectively.  
Keith had his hair up, “I understand that this is your job, but I do not need you protecting me,” he said, lips pursed into a thin white line. Lips cracked and dry. Shiro just gave him a small smile, and left his hand, and stood, looking at the lady. His attention directed towards the woman.

  
Allura took a breath, “Can we talk outside?” She asked, gesturing to the hall, and leading Lotor and Shiro out.   
Finally out, and closing the door on both Lance and Keith, Allura turned out them, her face gaunt, serious, “I know you two are the best at the job. And I need that. The Galra have been trying to take us out, peg by peg. We lost an agent last week, Sven.” Her brows dipped, mourning, “I can’t have Lance and Keith go. They’re already so well known, and are a great part in my campaign, and it would raise questions if they die. THey say that they can handle themselves, but they can't. Not from the Galra.”

  
Lotor seemed to swallow thickly at ‘Galra’ but it was barely noticeable. Shiro almost didn’t catch it. Allura surely hadn’t.   
“Of course,” Shiro nodded, dipping his head forward in acknowledgement.

  
Lotor looked at the transaction, and noticed how Allura’s hands fidgeted as Shiro spoke, making the last few adjustments.  
“Well, I suppose you should get to work.” Allura finished, putting a hand on the door, and pushing inward. The conversation had lasted a good twenty minutes, and the two men inside were playing a version of basketball, whirling in their seats, and using balled up copy paper as their ‘balls’.

  
Lotor covered his smirk, his eyes carefully observing his target. Pressure points. What did he like? What should Lotor know?

  
Lance smiled up at him, and stood, holding out his hands, “I have no say in this, but at least I can be nice,” he offered,

“Lance.”

  
Lotor took his hand, and shook it, “I know, sir, I’m Lotor.”

  
There was a dust of color that peeked it’s way across Lance’s face, “Just Lance, please.”

  
Shiro’s introduction went a bit simpler, Keith just gave him a once-over, and stood, “We should get started right away.” Keith dug through his pockets for a key, and swung it around his index finger, “I have things to do today, a drug bust to watch over.”

  
“Yes sir.” Shiro replied, hastily throwing Lotor one last look, leaving only when he was responded with a lilt of a smile.

 

\---

  
“Keith seems like a hard ass,” Lotor offered that night, sliding a glass of whiskey across the island. The apartment quiet, and Shiro looking dazed.

  
“He’s not so bad.”

  
Lotor had already managed to change into something more comfortable, and his hair in a loose braid, “I’d trust him more if he was a character from _Clockwork Orange_.”

  
Shiro couldn’t stop a snort from passing his lips, and picked up the offered glass of whiskey, “and Lance?”

  
Lotor shrugged, “Give me one week, some viagra and a good merlot. Done.”

  
“That fast?” Shiro asked, not completely beleving Lotor’s announcement. He gestured with his glass, and leaning on the granite top of the island.

  
Lotor nodded, going off to look through the bottles of liquor that was on the highest cabinet. He looked pleasantly surprised with the selection, and took down a small glass of wine down.

  
“Is wine your chosen poison?” Shiro asked, chuckling a bit, “makes you seem a bit effeminate, doesn’t it?”

  
Lotor’s lips quirked up, “I have long white hair, doesn’t that make me seem a bit effeminate?”

  
“Point taken,” Shiro shrugged, swirling the amber liquid that was settled at the bottom of the glass, and sighed, “This is going to be a long ride, isn’t it?” He asked.

  
Lotor just smiled, “Love thine enemy,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter...It's terribly short. I don't like it, but I didn't know what to write.


End file.
